Pick Your Style
Every genre in the catalogue, from platformers to grand strategy. Pick a style and dig into its best games.
Side-on running and jumping in its purest form, where pixel-perfect inputs and readable level design matter more than polygon counts. The lineage runs straight from the 8-bit era to today's precision indies.
The broadest church in gaming: reflexes, timing, and momentum over menus and spreadsheets. If it asks your hands to answer faster than your head, it lives here.
Character sheets meet real-time combat. Action RPGs keep the builds, loot, and levelling of the role-playing tradition but resolve every encounter with your own reactions.
Exploration and combat sharing one map. Action-adventures wrap traversal, puzzles, and fights into a single continuous world rather than splitting them into levels.
Story-first games built on curiosity: places to explore, people to press for answers, and puzzles standing between you and the next revelation. Pacing over pressure.
Short runs, instant restarts, and scoreboards that outlive any single credit. Born in the coin-op cabinets, the arcade sensibility is about one more attempt at a perfect run.
Walk right, clear the screen, repeat with style. Beat 'em ups turn crowd control into choreography, from scrolling brawlers to modern revival acts.
Digital tabletops: adaptations of physical classics and originals built on their rules language. Turn structure, tile placement, and reading your opponents across a virtual table.
Skateboards, snowboards, BMX, and anything else you can bail off at speed. Trick systems, combo lines, and physics tuned for spectacle over simulation.
One-on-one combat where frame data is the real rulebook. Fighting games compress strategy into seconds: spacing, reads, and execution under pressure.
Gunplay seen down the barrel. FPS games live or die on movement feel, weapon feedback, and encounter design, from corridor campaigns to competitive arenas.
Cockpits taken seriously: instruments, physics, and procedures modelled closely enough that the checklist is part of the fun. From general aviation to combat sorties.
Melee combat at scale. Hack and slash games hand you an arsenal and a screen full of enemies, and grade you on how stylishly the two are reconciled.
Games built to unsettle: scarce resources, oppressive sound design, and threats you would rather not face directly. Fear as the core mechanic, not a garnish.
Interconnected maps that open up as your abilities grow. The joy is the mental cartography: remembering the door you could not open two hours ago and finally coming back for it.
Team-versus-team lane warfare grown from strategy-game mods into a genre of its own. Drafts, roles, and macro calls decide as much as any single fight.
Games where the soundtrack is the system: performing, mixing, or riding music rather than merely hearing it. Sister genre to rhythm, with a broader brief.
Big continuous spaces that trust you to set your own agenda. The map is the main character; the question is always what is over the next ridge.
Built for a couch full of people and one more round. Minigame collections and social chaos engines where accessibility beats mastery on purpose.
The silver ball, simulated. Digital pinball spans faithful table recreations and fantasy layouts no physical machine could ever build.
Jumping as a language. Platformers in every dimension turn movement itself into the puzzle, the challenge, and the reward.
The classic adventure interface: look, take, use, talk. Inventory logic and dialogue trees carrying stories that range from comedy to noir.
Pure problem solving, from falling blocks to physics contraptions to logic grids. The best ones teach a rule, then ask what else it can do.
Speed with corners. Everything from kart chaos to license-accurate simulation, judged on handling feel and the shape of a perfect lap.
Economy, army, and attention, all managed on one ticking clock. RTS games reward the player who can think strategically while acting tactically.
Timing games where the track is the level. Hit the beat, hold the streak, and let muscle memory take over where sight reading fails.
Role-playing games: characters that grow, worlds with history, and choices with weight. The genre that turned numbers going up into narrative.
Aim, fire, reposition. The shooter family covers every camera angle and pace, unified by the craft of making a trigger pull feel consequential.
Systems for their own sake: cities, farms, machines, and lives modelled deeply enough to reward understanding them. The sandbox where the systems are the story.
The beautiful games, digitised. Licensed seasons, arcade takes, and management layers built on rules every fan already knows.
Games about not being seen: guard routes, sight lines, and the discipline to wait. Victory is the fight that never happened.
Thinking as the core verb. Strategy games trade reflexes for planning, whether that is a single decisive battle or a centuries-long campaign.
Hunger, weather, and hostile ground as the real antagonists. Survival games are loops of scarcity: gather, craft, fortify, and last one more night.
Shooters where one bullet matters. Slower, deadlier, and built on planning, communication, and angles rather than raw aim.
Gunfights with your character in frame. The over-the-shoulder camera trades first-person immediacy for spatial awareness and cover play.
Quiz games and knowledge duels. Fast questions, faster buzzers, and the eternal pub-quiz argument about what counts as general knowledge.
Role-playing at a considered pace: party menus, turn order, and battles won in the planning phase. The JRPG tradition and its many descendants.
Strategy with the clock removed. Every unit moved and hex claimed is a deliberate decision, from squad tactics to grand campaigns.
Stories first, systems second: branching narratives told through text, art, and choices. The reading genre, and proud of it.